


Post-Mortem

by turtlesparadise



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Autopsy, Medical Trauma, morgue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 16:11:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2587703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turtlesparadise/pseuds/turtlesparadise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vincent isn't as dead as they think he is, and Hojo performs an autopsy. Lucrecia takes desperate measures to save the life of the man she truly loves. Headcanon of Vincent as Sephiroth's father, warnings for blood and gore and Hojos' general insanity.</p><p>Usual Disclaimer: Don't own, wish I did - this is written for fun and not profit.  Warnings for medical trauma/autopsy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Post-Mortem

 

* * *

He was not dead, though not completely alive either; Vincent was in that space between life and death, trapped in his mortal form, rendered immovable and incapable of speech. Like being held captive in a glass prison, one wrong move, and everything would shatter. Not that Vincent _could_ move; he'd been willing himself to do so for hours, perhaps days. The only thing that was fully active was Vincent's mind, and his conscience. _Perhaps this is my purgatory, and perhaps this is what I deserve._ Those were his first thoughts upon slipping out of the Mako-induced coma, administered by Hojo. But then, all the sounds, smells, and sensations came back to Vincent - though his body and his capability for speech were still utterly paralyzed. Vincent knew then that he had died and come back, a fact that escaped even Hojo.

The scientist worked in silence, placing his surgical instruments on a small table beside the cold metal examination table upon which Vincent's body lay. Assortments of scalpels were placed there, along with saws of various lengths and sharpness, meant to cut through muscle and bone. A scale hung overhead in the dimly lit room, hanging there for the purpose of weighing organs.

Vincent's current state of being was no out-of-body experience, either, for he was surely imprisoned within his body. No longer recognizable, and no longer exactly human, thanks to Hojo's machinations. The once-vital Turk was just a corpse to anyone who might look upon him in that dank and dark morgue, but that was not the entire truth of the matter.

The truth of the matter was, _Vincent Valentine was alive,_ and apparently he was the only one aware of it, and the thing that was keeping him alive, was Chaos. On some level undetectable to the human eye, and indiscernible medical instrumentation, he was, in a clinical sense, alive. Immortal, in fact, though Hojo had been unable to revive Vincent and bring him back to consciousness.

Would Hojo have even cared if he knew that Vincent was still alive? Would he still have proceeded with an autopsy on a living being? At this point, considering the agony he was in, Vincent would not have put it past the man. Hojo had proven himself time and time again to have no moral compass whatsoever. He'd injected Vincent with enough Mako to fell a dragon, and the high dosage been the very thing that caused him to be in his current state, vacillating between life and death.

If only he were so lucky, he would actually die, and be freed from this agony. Vincent lay there on the slab, pulse coming to a complete stop, chest ceasing to rise and fall with each breath. Vincent heard the voice - that hated voice - as if it were coming to him through an aluminum can. " _Time of death...eleven forty-seven p.m_. _Cause of death, gunshot wound to the chest, leading to massive blood loss_." Vincent heard a chuckle at that. _Hojo...you bastard!_ The cause of death had been Hojo _himself_ , shooting Vincent at point-blank range in the chest. Of course, that little bit of information would be left out of the autopsy report.

Many of those who have 'died and come back', report having out-of-body experiences. These individuals often tell a tale of a strange sense of disembodiment, of floating up above their body and looking down upon it. But there was no such sensation for Vincent. He prayed for that sense of detachment, of that feeling of being pulled from his living body. He also prayed for death, true death, constantly. From the first incision with the scalpel, to the sickening crunch of bones as Hojo sawed through his chest cavity. The organs were carefully removed and weighed, then placed back into the body. The floor was slick with blood and other fluids, Hojo's once-white lab coat soaked with crimson, making the scientist look more like the monster he truly was.

Vincent saw nothing, yet could sense _everything_. He could hear what was going on around him, he could smell the formaldehyde and other chemicals in the morgue, and worst of all, he could _feel_. What Vincent now felt was a sensation that transcended pain; it was _hell_. Pure, unadulterated hell. Besides sawing him open from stem to stern, what else had that maniac done to him? Vincent was afraid to spend too much time pondering the thought; Hojo's insanity knew no limits.

 _Is this to be my penance - my eternal purgatory, for failing you, Lucrecia? For failing your child?_ His body was scarred, maimed, cut up and dissected as would be any cadaver. There was something else; something unnatural...the scent of raw Mako was pervasive.

Then, he heard _. Heard her voice_. Heard her sobbing, heard Hojo's nasal, mocking voice informing her of his death. Heard him calling the experiment a failure.

"Yes, well…. _please_ accept my condolences on the loss of your lover." Hojo's words were icy, venomous, spittle flying from his lips as Lucrecia wept.

"No, Hojo…I chose _you_! Please…please don't do this to him…"

"Do what? He's _dead_ , you little fool. And now, he is but a failed experiment. Yet you cry for him even now, even as you profess your love and fidelity to _me_ , your husband. Unfaithful shrew!" The sound of a beaker shattering against the stone wall was heard, along with Lucrecia shrieking.

"Stop! Just _stop it_ , Hojo!" Lucrecia screamed, surprising even Hojo with her ferocity. The life within her stirred, reacting to his mother's distress, and she felt one of the tiny legs kicking out within her womb. She turned toward Hojo, both hands gripping the edge of the metal table where Vincent lay, and spoke slowly, carefully.

"You have gotten what you wanted, Hojo," Lucrecia said evenly, her gaze not breaking. "Yes, I cared for Vincent! But I married _you_. There was no need for this. I know you had a hand in his death," she added, mouth set in a thin line.

Hojo threw his head back and laughed. "Prove it! He's just a hired gun, a _Turk_." Hojo said the word as if it was something vile, something to be ashamed of. "Nobody will even notice that he's gone."

"Veld will," Lucrecia argued. She stepped back, folding her arms across her chest. "And if you did not follow the usual protocol, and administer Revive materia –"

"I did so, and it was a failure," Hojo interrupted Lucrecia with a wave of his hand. "As you can see, I've implanted other materia, fusing them with some of the major organs within the body cavity – here, and here," he added, pointing at the heart, lungs and liver. Vincent's abdomen had been laid wide open following the autopsy as Hojo poked and prodded him, using what he supposed was a dead body in some experiments in resurrection. Hojo looked up from the body and glared at Lucrecia. "Yes, as you point out…you married me," he said cruelly. "But you know as well as I do that your heart wasn't in it. And it is still not."

"You gave me no choice!" Lucrecia shouted, cradling a hand protectively over her abdomen. "That you would threaten my child if I did not marry you, what kind of a man are you? I should have run off with Vincent when I had the chance –"

Hojo laughed bitterly. "Oh, really? An ambitious scientist such as yourself, Lucrecia, would run off with her boy toy, and throw away her career? You needed me, Lucrecia. As surely as you needed Grimoire, to get your foot in the door. Medical science is a man's world, and it's about time you realized that."

"Grimoire believed in me," Lucrecia said stubbornly. "And he warned me about you. I should have listened to him!"

"I care more about research, and results, than I do for your broken heart," Hojo snapped. "Silly little fool. Lucrecia…you _do_ have a brilliant scientific mind. Your research was on a par with Grimoire's. I admired you, do you even know that? But then, you let that filthy Turk into your bed –"

"You _knew_ I loved him. And you threatened to kill my child, and Vincent, if I did not go along with your plan," Lucrecia cut in. She clutched her stomach protectively. "And now you've killed Vincent after all. How am I to believe you won't try to harm my child as well?"

"We are done speaking about this," Hojo muttered, ignoring Lucrecia and cutting her off as he picked up his small voice recorder, in which he dictated his notes. He pressed a button and began speaking into it. "Let's see…subject, Vincent Valentine, age twenty-seven at time of death. Cause of death, hemorrhage and massive blood loss following gunshot wound to the chest. Resuscitation measures were unsuccessful." Hojo pushed the stop button and pocketed the recorder, smirking at Lucrecia.

"You can, of course, put all of that in your official report, my dear," Hojo added, pulling off his surgical gloves with a snap and disposing of them. "Clean up this mess, would you? And stitch him back up. I have concluded the autopsy," Hojo threw over his shoulder as he left, cackling under his breath as he closed the door.

Lucrecia stood stock-still for a moment, seething, trying to get a grip on her emotions; rushing to anger would not be good for her or her unborn baby. She rested a hand on her protruding abdomen and inhaled deeply. "Thank Shiva he isn't your real father," Lucrecia murmured, rubbing her stomach. Vincent heard this and felt his mind snap like a rubber band.

 _Does that mean…Lucrecia…the baby…is it…mine?_ He willed his mouth to open, to scream, but could not. Even if he could, the shock of a re-animated corpse could very well kill Lucrecia. He remembered all too well the conversation, then the denials; followed by his own questions about the timing of the pregnancy. It had been rather soon after Lucrecia's quickie marriage to Hojo – too soon, Vincent felt. But Lucrecia had denied up and down that the baby was Vincent's, and declared that she no longer had feelings for the Turk anyway, for she'd married Hojo after all.

 _Another terrible lie?_ Vincent had to wonder. Saline dripped on his mutilated body and for a moment, Vincent could not ascertain what was going on as he lay there, helpless. Then, he again heard the sound of soft crying. _Lucrecia_ … How he wanted to speak, to confront her; and to comfort her. _If only I had acted sooner, if only I had pressed harder, taken her away from Hojo. But she wouldn't listen…she wouldn't listen, but perhaps I simply did not try hard enough to convince her._

The tears continued to silently fall, though Lucrecia soon composed herself, donning a lab coat, surgical gloves, and protective goggles. Vincent heard something open and close, like the sound of a door safe opening and shutting; then, he sensed raw energy, powerful energy emanating from the object Lucrecia now held in her hand. It was some sort of materia, Vincent could somehow sense that much without seeing it, and he felt the monsters within him shifting.

_Lucrecia…what are you doing?_

"Forgive me, Vincent…I'm so sorry," Lucrecia whispered as she worked, inserting a round orb into Vincent's already-open chest cavity. "This…is my last gift to you. I must try to save you, I owe you as much."

_Lucrecia…no, please….just let me die. End my suffering, if you ever cared for me at all…_

Vincent already sensed that he had monsters dwelling within him, thanks to the Chaos-infused Mako. He could feel them stirring within, restless, waiting for that moment when Vincent would open his eyes, so that they could emerge. Now, they became even more restless as Lucrecia approached Vincent with the protomateria, intent on implanting this into Vincent's chest cavity. Hojo had no idea what she was doing; it was Lucrecia's last-ditch effort to save the life of the man she truly loved.

"This will help you, Vincent…I know, it doesn't make sense... I've taken your vitals, and you still have no pulse, no respiration," Lucrecia said softly, pushing the damaged breastbone and ribcage back together, the protomateria nestled within, next to Vincent's heart. "Hojo autopsied you, and declared you dead, but…somehow, I know you are not. My Vincent is still in there, somewhere." She began stitching Vincent back up, the incision would leave an ugly, Y-shaped scar that no amount of healing magic or potions would ever get rid of.

"It doesn't make sense," Lucrecia repeated, "but I _believe_. I believe that Chaos has kept you alive, and that you _are_ still alive, my love. I pray this works...so that you may live. So that you may live, to see our child born." Lucrecia pushed aside the terrible dreams and visions she'd been having about her unborn child, dismissing them as hallucinations – side effects of the Jenova cells she'd been injected with. She steeled herself, willing herself to finish the job of suturing Vincent's massive autopsy incisions.

"I will leave him, I promise," Lucrecia whispered to an utterly silent Vincent, who of course could not respond; she wasn't even sure he could hear her, really. "I will leave Hojo, leave it all behind - it's _you_ I want, Vincent. There is a research facility in Modeoheim – perhaps we could hide out there, when you are well." The job of stitching Vincent finally done, Lucrecia gathered the bloodied instruments, placing them in the autoclave for sterilization, and then pulled off the surgical gloves, followed by the bloodied smock and lab coat.

Vincent's eyes, still stuck shut, would soon be re-opened by Lucrecia. She had to force them open once again, hoping that sight would be regained soon. Her fingers gently forced the lids upward, pupils dilating rapidly as the light hit his eyes.

Vincent blinked. Twice. _Lucrecia…do not do this. I am not human, not any longer!'_

"Trust me, Vincent, Lucrecia begged, "Please trust in me."

Now Vincent was trying to move his eyes, his face, as a searing pain shot through his chest. He felt the blood flowing back to his limbs, the heart pumping once again, chest rising and falling with each breath.

Even though this was the very thing she'd hoped for, that the protomateria would work, Lucrecia drew back in fear as Vincent's limbs began to slowly twitch and move. "Vincent?" she said fearfully, backing away from the examination table. _Oh gods…what have I done?_

Vincent sat up unsteadily on the table, pushing his legs over to the side. He blinked, trying to focus; it seemed his peripheral vision was blurry, and it made him feel disoriented. The blood rushed through his brain, making him even dizzier. Vincent heard the sound of metal being scraped as he gripped the edges of the tables in order to steady himself.

 _No…no, what have they done to me!_ Vincent raised his hands, turning them palm side up; the flesh a mottled purple, talons at the end of each finger _. Not the hands of a human. What am I?_

Vincent opened his mouth to speak, to ask Lucrecia why, but all that came out was an agonized roar. Lucrecia screamed and ran from the room, slamming the door shut behind her, weeping bitterly. _I'm so sorry, Vincent…I thought…I thought it would help…I have failed you, and I have failed our child…I am so sorry._

Vincent's face fell as Lucrecia left him; he reached a clawed hand out toward the door then let it fall, feeling defeated. _She did not want you then, and she will surely not want you now…as a monster,_ Vincent told himself. He knew the baby would come soon, perhaps any day now. Was it true, then, that he was the father? Vincent remembered Lucrecia's words whispered to him while he was dead, the secret that only she knew.

There was one thing left to do, Vincent decided, and that was to hide. To get away from the lab, and hide from the world. _Forgive me, Lucrecia…I cannot let you see me this way. I cannot let our child see me this way. This is how it must be._


End file.
